


Make It A Good One

by GrinningColossus



Series: War and Peace [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Idiots with Feelings, M/M, Porn with minimal Plot, Smut, Works as a standalone, blowjob, it's not necessary to read the first part of the series, the care and keeping of your dangerously stupid human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 02:11:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15475209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrinningColossus/pseuds/GrinningColossus
Summary: Gavin decides that the best way to deal with being angry at RK900 is to get plastered. It's a good plan, until it isn't.





	Make It A Good One

  
  


_ If you wanna start a fight _

_ You better throw the first punch _

_ Make it a good one _

\----

The throbbing bass feels like a second heartbeat, crawling into Gavin’s chest and making a home there. It’s almost enough to drown out his thoughts, but at least he has his rum and coke to try and finish the job. His fourth, to be more precise, and it’s perfect and smooth going down because it was expertly mixed by the android bartender. 

He’s got to hand that to them, at least. 

The makeup of the crowd itself is difficult to tell, not least of all because Gavin’s eyes are having trouble focusing. There are unmistakable humans and unmistakable androids but Gavin doesn’t have a fucking clue about the rest. Nowadays the androids are more comfortable popping out their little mood lights and changing their appearance and some of them blend right in. With a good portion of CyberLife’s funds now android-controlled, the market has seen a recent surge in modification hardware and services that he guesses are basically the robot equivalent of plastic surgery. 

On the one hand it’s hard to blame them, because Gavin thinks he’d be pretty wigged out if exact copies of his face were everywhere. On the other hand, not always immediately knowing who is android and who is human is extremely fucking unsettling. 

Luckily he hasn’t had a need to do any complex mental gymnastics so far this evening, having been approached by absolutely no one except the bartender since he arrived. Stiff shoulders and a lovingly cultivated resting bitch face have always served him well.

If the bartender is aware that he is both a police officer and barely straddling the line of legal drunkenness, she says nothing, and when he gestures minutely for his fifth drink it is brought to him with no complaint. 

Seven months ago Gavin Reed would not have been caught dead patronizing an android-owned establishment of any kind. Maybe that’s why it feels safe here, like there is some degree of anonymity. 

He scans the crowd, elbows back against the bar and legs spread out to discourage anyone from sitting too close. Attractive staff members wind through the crowd and among the booths on the side of the dance floor, serving drinks and flirting. A new song starts up and the beat is very compelling, causing a noticeable surge in activity. There are a few raised platforms around the room where employed dancers perform on some nights, but right now they are occupied by club patrons. There are groups of friends dancing goofily. There are lovers grinding and making eyes. 

There is a couple on one of the raised areas, a man and woman, both very good looking. They are also excellent dancers, movements flawlessly in sync with the music. Androids, Gavin thinks. There’s no doubt. 

They are laughing, and when their arms brush their human skin melts away to show pure white android plating made all the more dazzling by the multicolored lights glancing off of it. 

He’s seen RK900 do this with Connor. 

God. Shit. RK900. 

He’s been trying so, so hard not to think about that bastard, and now it’s too late because he’s imagining RK900 dancing, with his streamlined profile and black clothing and legs for days, and the answering throb of lust within him nearly bowls him right off his bar stool. 

He grows, downing the rest of his drink in one go. 

Fuck that guy, and not literally. All he can see is that neatly stapled packet on RK900’s desk, the way the android tried to push it out of view when he saw Gavin looking. 

_ Notice of promotion _ , it said. There was a signature at the bottom, perfect CyberLife Sans. 

Gavin knows his attitude is abysmal. He knows no one at the DCPD actually likes him. He knows he’s on thin fucking ice because of how he treated Connor at the beginning, and even though he and RK900 have been working together he knows Fowler still doesn’t trust him not to be a giant liability now that all eyes are on Detroit. 

But, shit, he’s a good cop. He has connections and he gets results. And he and RK900 just solved that big android trafficking thing together.  _ Together _ , and now RK900 was being promoted and Gavin didn’t get so much as a pat on the back. 

He’s been at the DCPD for going on eleven goddamn years, and an android shows up and gets promoted in three months. 

Not just “an android”, either, but RK900, who was designed in a lab to give Gavin a range of mood swings even he hadn’t thought was possible before meeting him. And despite his very best efforts, Gavin found himself cari-- _ kind of _ giving a shit about RK900, so now he feels like crap because of that, too. 

Maybe it’s time to go to the restroom and break the seal, if only to try to and do something with the sudden burst of frenetic energy in his muscles. He doesn’t think he’s drunk until he actually tries to stand up and the floor decides to tip to the left all of a sudden. He catches himself on the bar and tries to get steady. 

While he’s waiting for the ground to quit wobbling, Gavin notices a group of young women by one of the booths. One of them sets down her purse and the group makes their way to the dance floor. The moment they are gone a man steps out from behind the corner and grabs the purse, tucking it beneath his arm and quickly making his way to the nearest exit. It’s the door to the smoking porch, Gavin realizes. 

“Hey!” he barks, but it is drowned out beneath the music. His police instincts kick in and Gavin pushes away from the bar, running as fast as he can between the crowd and his embarrassing lack of balance. 

He pushes through the door and is glad to see that the smoking porch is vacant. The perp isn’t that far ahead, jogging down the short flight of stairs to the back alley behind the club. He can’t be allowed to get to the street, Gavin knows that much. Using the railings to help hold his body weight Gavin takes three stairs at a time, landing with both feet on the pavement and taking off again. If the guy wasn’t aware he was being followed before, he certainly is now.

Gavin’s feet pound the pavement and the perp looks over his shoulder anxiously, shoving over a nearby garbage can. It falls to the ground and the contents spill out in Gavin’s path, but he clears the mess easily and keeps going. He reaches for his gun holster and curses when he remembers he doesn’t have it; the club has a strict no weapons policy, even for off-duty cops.

The two of them hurtle down the back street. The perp disappears around a corner and Gavin skids after him, trying to take the corner as tight as possible, but the thief is waiting for him, has turned to face where he knows Gavin will round the corner, and when he does he is bewildered by a mean left hook that splits his lip. 

“Fuck!” he curses, trying to lunge after him, but the injury combined with his blood alcohol content and the brutal chase has got him all dizzy and he misses. The thief pushes him and Gavin’s ass hits the pavement hard. 

He’s so pathetic he can’t even stand up, and he’s just about to call it quits when the perp lets out a shocked squeak. A tall figure has appeared on the other side of them and the guy, in his hurry to get away from Gavin, runs right into it. Arms snake out to grab the guy’s wrists and pin them behind his back in one fluid movement. He’s lifted momentarily and slammed back down with a quick readjustment of his center of gravity, and the figure kneels above him, holding him in the standard subduing position.

“RK?” Gavin says, in complete shock. Is this some kind of drunken hallucination? 

No, it’s all too real. The android looks at him passively, his perfect hair and face giving nothing away, not a thread out of place from the momentary struggle. His LED is blue, grey eyes glinting under the street light. 

The LED blinks and RK900 begins speaking, calling in the theft to officers on duty. “They will be here in three minutes,” he tells Gavin when the call is over. “Can you stand?” 

“Can I fucking stand,” Gavin mutters. “Don’t you ever get tired of being a nanny full-time? What are you even doing here?” 

“I would prefer not to explain at this moment,” is RK900’s reply, and he looks pointedly down at the thief. The guy seems to have regained his senses and has begun to swear and struggle. RK900 is unphased. 

It’s kind of hot, actually, seeing him restrain someone without breaking a--

And whoa, nope. Gavin is  _ pissed  _ at him right now. Remember that?  _ Pissed _ . 

True to his word the squad car arrives shortly after and meets them at the street, where RK900 has frog marched the thief. They confiscate the purse and make a call to the club so the woman will be notified and her property returned once the report has been filled out. 

The second the car is out of sight Gavin whirls on him. 

“Okay, ice man, what’s your excuse? You just following me around?” 

RK900 shrugs with one shoulder. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“I’m  _ sorry _ ?”

The android’s eyes meet his. “You are incredibly easy to predict, Gavin Reed. It was obvious earlier today at the precinct that you were upset, and I decided it would be best if someone were to keep an eye on you.” 

Gavin snorts. “You are the last person I want to see right now, so fuck off. Leave me alone. You’re dismissed, whatever it is you need to hear to do as you’re told for once.”

“You are quite intoxicated,” the android informs him dispassionately. Is that...disapproval? “I have already called for a taxi to take you home.”

He’s too drunk to reign in his physical response to this, not that he’s great at restraint when sober, either, and he clenches his fists so hard his nails start to cut into his palms. “Did you even fucking hear what I said? Do you care at all that I am so fucking pissed off at you right now? Don’t you wanna know why?” His voice rises in volume as he rants, and he realizes belatedly that he’s cornering RK900 against the brick facade of the nearest building, practically yelling into his face. 

RK900’s eyebrow arches, just a tad. “You clearly want to tell me, Detective, so be my guest.” 

“Oh no,” he spits, gritting his teeth. “This isn’t...you don’t get to act like I’m just throwing a shitfest for no reason.”

RK900’s LED is yellow, the only indication that any of this is getting through to him. He continues to hold Gavin’s gaze steadily, allowing himself to be backed up to the wall. “As I am unaware of the cause for your anger, I would prefer that you explain it to me rather than accuse me of not caring.” 

Gavin jabs his finger into the android’s chest and is about to go off again when the automated taxi pulls up, opening the passenger door with a cheery tone. 

“You should go home and rest,” RK900 says, cutting him off, and starts to move like he is going to wrangle Gavin into the taxi. 

“No!” Gavin growls. “No, fuck you, you don’t tell me what to do. I’m not done.”

“You are barely able to stand and we are currently accomplishing nothing with this ‘discussion’. I would say you are, in fact, done.” 

A struggle ensues. Gavin tries to push RK900 off of him but he seems to know every move Gavin is going to make before he makes it. Gavin is sweating and bleeding from his split lip, and he manages to claw across RK900’s face (out of sheer chance, but a win is a win) and that seems to do it. 

The red flash at RK900’s temple is the warning sign his reflexes are too sluggish to heed, and then their positions are flipped, Gavin’s arms above his head with RK900’s strong hands pinning them and his hip putting pressure on Gavin’s core. 

He uses the advantage to lean down and scoop Gavin up, which has the human spitting venom and trying like hell to kick him, but RK900 proceeds to the taxi and deposits Gavin inside of it before climbing in after him and shutting the door. 

The taxi starts to move and Gavin sits up, trying to keep RK900 off of him, but the android resumes his restraint by pressing him against the door on Gavin’s side of the car. 

It’s almost more than Gavin can stand, but then a curious thing happens. “Shh,” RK900 tells him, and Gavin feels the rumble of it against his chest. The hands at his wrists loosen enough that RK900’s thumbs can press into his palms and stroke softly. 

“Goddamnit, goddamnit,” Gavin pants, face burning. 

“Hush.” A hand leaves Gavin’s to pet his hair back, the slight drag of nails against his scalp making Gavin’s skin break out in goosebumps. RK900 takes him by the jaw, not roughly, tilts his head up. When their eyes meet, RK900 looks to the side where their hands are still joined. As Gavin watches, the skin melts back, and he can feel a noticeable difference in the texture against him. “Sometimes, I wish…” RK900 starts, and then seems to stop himself. 

Gavin swallows, unable to look away from RK900’s shining white hand. 

“When androids do this, we can share all kinds of information, including thoughts, feelings, and perspectives. Memories. There is no need for complicated argument; we can demonstrate our point in a matter of fractions of a second. I don’t say this as a strike against your humanity, but at times I do find myself wishing we could also communicate this way.” RK900’s eyes are squeezed shut, as if he finds this confession painful. “Surely I could understand you, if we were to…”

“Well, we can’t,” Gavin states bluntly, but it doesn’t come out as pissy as he intended. 

“So  _ talk  _ to me,” RK900 pleads. 

“Fine.” But god help him, he’s not going to be able to look at RK900’s face when he does it. “I saw that thing on your desk.”

RK900 cocks his head, but then it clicks. “The promotion contract?” he asks, brow furrowed. 

Gavin bites his lip and nods. 

Bizarrely, RK900 chuckles. “Is that really what has you so upset?” When Gavin gives him a reproachful look, the android shakes his head, thumb running along the fierce edge of Gavin’s jaw. “The Captain is instituting an internal android affairs department. I have been chosen as co-director. It will mostly be meetings and outreach for the time being, and should be official within the next month. And before you ask, no, this will not interfere with my current duties as an officer and as your partner.” 

Gavin’s heart thudded dumbly. “Oh.” 

“Yes, ‘oh’,” RK900 retorted, looking intolerably smug. 

“Why didn’t you…”

“I didn’t tell you because it is not official yet, as I mentioned, and I have seen enough of this world to know to take nothing given to an android for granted. I also did not think you would have appreciated it, given your attitude where androids are concerned.” 

Gavin is dazed and drunk and worked up and very, very stupid, but the realization hits him hard and sharp. RK900 didn’t tell him because he didn’t think Gavin would be happy for him. 

Fuck, he was right, too. Just the idea of RK900 getting any kind of promotion over him had gotten Gavin worked up enough to sulk off and get shitfaced. 

All at once the tension drained out of his muscles. They spent the rest of the ride in silence, and when they arrived at Gavin’s apartment building he was relieved not to have to ask RK900 to go with him, because the android was already paying the fare and taking him by the elbow, steering him inside. 

It was a lot like their first time coming here together, he mused, head lolling back against the elevator wall. Not like they were going to have a repeat of that; Gavin could only imagine how disgusted RK900 was with his behavior tonight. 

When they get to Gavin’s apartment, RK900 plucks Gavin’s keys from his pocket and lets them in, coaxing Gavin to the couch while he goes into the kitchen. Moments later he reappears holding a large glass of water, and Gavin drinks it all. When he’s done, RK900 takes the glass out of his hand, goes into the kitchen again, and comes back empty handed. 

“Go to sleep,” he told Gavin. Fuck, is he going to leave? 

Gavin’s hand shoots out and closes around RK900’s sleeve. “Don’t.” He pulls, somewhat petulantly, trying to get RK900 to drop onto him. 

RK900’s grey eyes peer down at him. “No, Gavin. You’re intoxicated.” 

“God, fuck off. Who cares?” 

“I don’t want to give you the opportunity to do anything you will regret tomorrow,” RK900 informs him clinically. 

They’ve already been intimate, and yet RK900 still acts like he’s waiting for Gavin to call the whole thing off at any moment. He probably should, if only to give the android the chance to fuck someone who was worth being with instead of an overly aggressive, ungrateful little shitstain like him. 

As if sensing the runaway train of thought, RK900 kneels, placing his hands carefully over Gavin’s knees. He spreads them apart enough to kneel between them. Like this, Gavin is slightly taller. Gavin licks his lips and RK900’s eyes follow the movement. 

He’s at least smart enough to understand what this is: a surrender. 

He grabs RK900’s jacket and tugs him forward, leaning in so that their lips are a hair’s breadth apart, his hot breath fanning off RK900’s face. His stupidly perfect face with all its maddening little freckles and marks. 

Someone moves, or perhaps they both do, and their lips are touching. Gavin slides his open with a moan, inviting RK900 to dip his tongue inside. He knows how the android loves to taste and sample. He wants that; he wants RK900 to use his fingers and tongue to learn every last fucking part of him, to take anything he wants, whether it’s pleasure or information or both. 

The android  _ hmm _ s low in his throat and works his tongue against Gavin’s, putting weight on the man’s knees as his body leans into the kiss. RK900 slides his palms from his knees and up his thighs, bracketing Gavin’s hips with his thumbs and slipping just under his waistband. Gavin is already wildly hard, not caring that their kiss is open-mouthed and sloppy, and he paws at RK900’s jacket. The android complies, removing the jacket and then lifting his shirt over his head. The hands at Gavin’s hips move upwards, removing Gavin’s shirt. 

The careful, nimble fingers he dreams about skim up his arms, taking in whatever scar tissue and muscle they find, and when they complete their path back down to Gavin’s middle they deftly undo the button of his jeans. It doesn’t take much coercion to get Gavin to lift his hips enough so that RK900 can slide down his pants and boxers in one go, and soon his rigid cock is pressing onto RK900’s bare stomach as the android moves back in to bite at his lips. 

“Ahh!” he hisses, bucking up involuntarily.

“Put your arms around my neck,” RK900 murmurs into his ear, nibbling softly. 

Gavin does as he is told (lo and behold, miracles do happen) and is rewarded by RK900’s strong arms snaking under his body, hands scooping up his ass and lifting until Gavin is no longer on the couch but being held. His legs automatically wrap around RK900’s waist and the android carries him into the bedroom, flipping on the light switch with a quick dip of his shoulder. All the while his lips do not leave Gavin’s, and the human grinds his leaking cock against RK900’s crotch, no doubt making a mess of his trousers. 

He is deposited on the bed, and when he looks up he sees RK900 removing the remainder of his clothes. Before he can say or do anything else, RK900 slides onto the bed after him, those hands slipping under his thighs again and sliding him forward so that they bracket the android’s head. 

It’s an incredible view: his hard, leaking cock and RK900’s gorgeous face next to it, eyes raking over it in curiosity. 

Gavin hisses and bucks when RK900 takes his cock in hand and strokes once before giving a single lick to the head. His LED churns as he processes the data, and whatever he discovers seems to be of interest because in the next moment he is sucking Gavin’s cock down like it’s his job. 

Gavin’s fingers tangle in his hair and he writhes. “Oh shit, RK, that feels fucking incredible. Oh fuck,  _ fuck _ . Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop,” he babbles as RK900’s mouth sucks over him, covering him in saliva. It feels very thick, more viscous than usual spit, and he finds that being drenched in RK900’s fluids is a goddamned blessing.    
  
“Shit, wait,” he breathes, pulling RK900’s head up by his hair. The android gives a single kiss to the side of his cock, staring at him questioningly. “I’m not gonna last if you do that.” 

“Who says you must?” 

“I say,” Gavin tells him. “I want something else. More.” RK900 tilts his head. “I want to be fucked,” he clarifies, surprised at how little embarrassment he feels. 

“Oh, congratulations. You, a human male, want to have sexual intercourse.” The corners of RK900’s eyes crinkle up and he smirks, just the tiniest bit. 

“Don’t you fucking  _ tease  _ me, you robotic slut.”

“Perhaps if you were more specific…” He idly strokes Gavin’s cock, just light enough to drive him mad. 

“I want you to fuck me!” he practically yells, and RK900 seems to need no further clarification because he sticks his fingers into his mouth and then, when they come away dripping in that thick saliva, rubs them over Gavin’s hole. The saliva from where he sucked on Gavin’s cock is already there, having dripped down earlier, so maybe it shouldn’t be surprising how easily his body open up to a single digit and then, after a few moments of careful penetration, a second one. It probably also helps that he is drunk and unbearably turned on.

RK900 watches his face, gauging his reaction as he probes Gavin open. He leans over Gavin and captures his lips. He really seems to like kissing, Gavin muses, confirming the theory by moving his hand down until he can feel the weight of RK900’s cock hot and heavy against it. When their tongues meet, RK900’s cock gives a small, interested twitch. 

“Okay,” he says, suddenly impatient. He needs this as of, like, twenty minutes ago. “Let me, I want to.” 

RK900 allows himself to be moved, and Gavin reverses their positions so that he is poised over the android. RK900’s hands are at his hips, subtly pulling him forward, and he is more than happy to comply, straddling RK900 and taking his cock in hand. He holds the android down with his other hand on his chest and keeps steady eye contact as he lowers himself onto RK900’s cock. 

This is the first time they have done this. It must be the first time RK900 has done this ever, with anyone. It certainly seems to affect him, his eyelids fluttering as he gives a few initial shallow thrusts into Gavin. 

At first there is not much grace to it, Gavin trying to work the cock as far into him as he can get it, and RK900 moving just a little, but then Gavin growls and bites his lip and works his hips up and then down at the same moment RK900 moves up, and the smooth joining causes Gavin to shudder and RK900 to groan, and then they’re off. 

Sweat dripping from his flushed face, Gavin works himself up and down, meeting the android’s hips in the middle, their pace frantic and furious but impeccably timed. RK900’s hands cup his backside again, kneading into the flesh and pulling him forward, and Gavin bends down to meet the other in a kiss. The slight change causes the curve of RK900’s cock to glide against a place inside of him that feels like flint on steel, and once RK900 senses that he’s hit the sweet spot he is absolutely relentless. 

It becomes like a clenching fist around him, the friction of his cock against RK900’s firm abdomen in time with their thrusts, the inexorable pressure against his prostate, the hot, open mouth and seeking tongue. 

Too soon he seizes up. “Ohhh fuck,” he groans. “Fuck, RK.” His cock pulses in between them, covering them both with his cum. 

The aftershocks are barely receding when RK900 takes him by the hips roughly and pulls him away. The shock of being suddenly empty causes him to cry out, but RK900 quickly flips him over and presses his face into the mattress, ass up in the air. 

He enters Gavin again swiftly. Gavin’s hands twist in the sheets and his cheek presses into the bed, mouth open and groaning as RK900 thrusts savagely, holding his hips so hard he thinks (hopes) he will bruise. 

“Gavin,” RK900 breathes. 

“Come on,” Gavin urges in turn. “Come on, fuck me, cum inside of me.” 

RK900’s hips snap out of rhythm once, twice, and then he does just that. The fluid seems a little cooler than normal human cum, but it’s a good thing because Gavin can actually  _ feel  _ it filling him. 

RK900 pulls out and Gavin collapses immediately, panting hard. “Shit.” 

The android’s hands have left his hips and are skimming over his back and shoulders now, rubbing him. It feels fucking incredible. 

“Come,” RK900 says after a time. “Let’s go get cleaned up.” 

Feeling utterly boneless, Gavin is a ragdoll in RK900’s arms. They enter the shower together and RK900 cleans them both, washing down their skin with soap and a washcloth and working shampoo into their hair. When he is satisfied that they are clean, he wraps Gavin in a nearby towel and exits the bathroom, still nude. 

Gavin dries off, and when he comes back into the bedroom he sees that his bed has been stripped of the old bedding and RK900 has found the spare set and is just finishing remaking the bed. 

His mind is blissfully blank when Gavin slides under the covers, and the warm body of the android folds against his easily. He falls asleep in record time. 

Neither of them work the next day. If RK900 stays with him as he dozes well past noon the next day, if he strokes Gavin’s hair, if he lets Gavin plant sleepy kisses over his collarbone, well, that’s no one’s business but their own.

\----

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Quantic Dream: here is an Asshole.  
> Quantic Dream: here is a character that appears on screen for less than 30 seconds and has no lines or characterization.  
> Us: okay but what if they like....FfUckedd
> 
> Song quote and title are from Panic!'s "The Good The Bad and The Dirty" because it radiates chaotic Reed900 energy.


End file.
